Despite
by write-love-latte
Summary: Despite everything wrong about her, he still loves her...One-shot-DMGW...R to be safe...R


Despite

**Author's Note: Mhm...I wasn't too sure about the rating for this one, so I put it as R, 'cuz I didn't want to make a mistake and put it as PG-13. R&R, pleez.**

Ginny could have stared into those eyes forever. They were the most beautiful, most complicated eyes on the face of this earth. A dark, undefinable color labeled the edges, fading into a beautiful pearl grey that was dotted ever so slightly by amber flecks around pupils that would always stare intently at her, as if wishing to see what was so precious about her own faded brown eyes. 'Nothing is special about me,' she had long decided. Who would like a girl like her, except for a boy like him? She had no curves, her chest was flat compared to those of her fellow yearmates, and her fiery red hair was too bright, yet at the same time too, utterly, dull. Her face was narrow, her nose too straight, and her bottom lip was bigger than the upper one.

And the worst part...her _freckles_! Why had god blessed her with such wretched marks on her face, and all over her body. She sighed, counting the ones on her nose, tiredly. Even they, like the rest of her, were faded, barely visible on her pale face. Who could love a girl like her...?

Except for a boy like him. He was perfect in every single way she could think of. Silvery blonde hair, longed rid of that greasy gel, that framed his face, making him look like an angel from god himself. A nose, straight, but aristocratic, and full, kissable lips. A face, pale as porcelain, and eyes even paler. Oh, his eyes. His eyes were her favorite part of him. The way they could harden almost scarily when his was angry or feeling impassive, and especially the way they would soften immiediatly when they poured their problems out into hers. He was perfect, down to the very last golden hair that dotted that blessed and explored trail up from his southern reaches to his belly button. He really was.

And yet, out of all the flamboyant and beautiful girls he could have had, he had chosen her. He had defied his father's wishes, broken his every rule...But most of all, he had shattered every one of his childhood to adolescent morals...just to be with her. Plain, old Ginny Weasley, who, even though she was nearing seventeen, still had not a sign on her chest to say she even passed through pueberty. She still had the chest of a thirteen year old. Though that _could_ be made up by her long, strong legs, toned to an almost-perfection by years of hanging onto a broom with them while she recklessly beat at Bludgers on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Yes, possibly it could.

But it still made no sense why he would have chosen to be with her. They were many other girls who not only had better legs than she did, but definetley had better looks. All Ginny Weasely had on her was a bit of atheleticness and a tinse of brain. Otherwise she was, as said before, plain, old Ginny Weasley.

She felt a familiar pressure on her shoulders, and tensed immiediatly, then quickly relaxed as she heard a familiar voice whisper huskily into her ear, "I love you." Goosebumps rose all over her skin at the sincerity of the statement, ignoring the fact that that was probably the tenth time that week she had heard it. "I love you, too," she answered, focusing her eyes on the mirrored reflection of a pair of grey ones. His hand slipped around her waist, protectively, and, Ginny shivered in delight, with a hint of posessiveness.

"You're so beautiful," he said again, planting a kiss on her neck gently. She leant back into his shoulder, and smiled, not wanting to say anything that might break this delightful feeling of rightness. She stared into the mirror, watching the way she fit right into every curve and slight crevice of his lean body, watching the way her hair brought out the color in his eyes, and his hair brought out the color in hers. She watched the way his pale skin moved against hers as he continued to kiss her neck, his every kiss landing on one of her freckles. She sighed.

He sighed, too, and she laughed as she saw the playfulness arise dangerously fast in his eyes. Her otherwise faded eyes flushed with a delicate amber color that was so much more than _just_ brown. It was...it was..."Caramel," he said softly, as if reading her mind. She didn't even ask. Her skin tinged pink and her lips swelled as if in anticipation of what they both knew would come. For once, Ginny had to admit: she looked a bit more than plain. Maybe even a bit pretty.

He took a lock of her red hair and twisted in softly around his finger, his other hand tightning its hold on her waist as he kissed that sensitive spot right behind her neck, below her hairline. She jerked backward, a fit of giggles erupting from her mouth. He smiled. A beautiful smile. "Tickles?" he inquired, but he already knew. He knew exactly where to touch to get a reaction, and he knew exactly which spots would give him which reaction.

She turned away from the mirror to face him, her nostrils inhaling the sweet, sharp scent of cologne. She tiptoed and managed to kiss his jawline. He grinned and picked her up, making sure she was pressed tightly against him, before abruptly dumping her, rather unceremoniously onto the bed. He crawled up next to her, growling...

-----

Ginny lay awake in the dark next to him, his arms wrapped around her, and their legs intertwined. Her back pressed firmly against his hard stomach, and his rather pointy chin was nestled in her mussed up, sweaty hair. She felt a smile tug at her lips as she heard him shift slightly behind her, still lost in the carressing arms of sleep. She closed her eyes, thinking about every word he'd uttered to her as they had both succumbed to the passionate fire that burned within them constantly. Despite her straight nose, he'd still lain a kiss on it, and despite her faded eyes, he'd still stared into them tenderly. Despite her flat chest, he'd still cupped her breasts lovingly, and even though she had no curves, he'd still ran his hands down the slender sides of her body.

It seemed that despite everything _wrong_ about her, he _still_ loved her.

So, who could love a girl like her?

The answer, despite everything, was Draco Malfloy.

**Author's Note: Mindless crap. I don't know what I was thinking, but that doesn't matter. Sometimes good things come off things like that. If you have a sensible title, tell me. I beg reviews off you guys.**


End file.
